


Stall, Part 1

by justanotheranonymouswriter



Series: The Intimacy Series [3]
Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Intimacy, Sex Talk, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:02:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26914075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanotheranonymouswriter/pseuds/justanotheranonymouswriter
Summary: I've been so busy I haven't had a chance to write, lately, and this feels very rusty, but... thank you for reading! As always, reviews and constructive criticism are so appreciated.
Relationships: Donna Paulsen & Harvey Specter, Donna Paulsen/Harvey Specter
Series: The Intimacy Series [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1920937
Comments: 3
Kudos: 21





	Stall, Part 1

The first time Donna doesn’t come, Harvey nearly has a panic attack. 

He’s not fully aware of it in the moment, because he’s lost in her and in the drag of her skin against hers, with the feel of his cock pressed into her in a way that feels completely different to anyone else he’s ever been with, with the heat and then flash of cool of their sweat hitting air, and with the way she blindly seeks out his palm and squeezes his fingers between hers when she’s just on the edge. Maybe he should be embarrassed about the fact he hasn’t been able to figure out how to last longer than a few minutes once he’s inside her, but he hasn’t found the awareness to feel self-conscious about it yet, because she’s enthusiastic and forthright and even though he only takes moments, sometimes, she still comes before him or with him, so he figures it doesn’t matter. 

But tonight there’s none of the things he’s come to expect when she’s chasing him into the static. Her hips don’t quirk up to his, seeking unconsciously and falling out of rhythm. She doesn’t turn her head sideways into the crook of her arm to block out some of the sensation because it’s too much. Her hand doesn’t squeeze his fingers in that particular way, she doesn’t slip her free arm around his neck for purchase and anchor, and there’s no low catch in her throat that bites off his name over her vocal chords. 

He has just enough awareness to think,  _ wait _ , before he can’t, and the tension and build up kicks him over the edge, his face pressing into the side of her neck while she tickles fingers into the hair at the back of his neck, and she kisses lightly along the ridge of his collar bone. 

He takes a long moment for his breathing to find a steady rhythm in his lungs again, and then tries to sort through exactly how he’s feeling. It’s new, some unfamiliar mix of embarrassment and deflation, because this isn’t something that’s happened to him before, not since his first awkward fumblings with girls who knew as little as he had, at least, and he’s with Donna nonetheless. She deserves better, he thinks. 

“Sorry,” he murmurs, and slips a hand between them, trailing down her torso to her hip bone, at the same time he presses his mouth up into the curve where her neck and jaw meet. 

Maybe she decides to let the first ‘sorry’ go, but she stops him, gently, when he says it a second time. She presses her palm along his arm, finds where his thumb is pressing along her front, edging her pelvis, and stills his hand. “Shh, Harvey,” she says. “What are you apologising for?”

“You didn’t come.” Even he can hear the awkward tilt in his words. He’s getting better at discussing this, how they fit together in bed, but it’s still uncomfortable. He’s just starting to use words that felt too blunt a few weeks ago instead of sliding into vague metaphors that should remain contained within romantic novels. He’s started to say what he likes, and he’s stopped blushing when she brings intimacy up outside the confines of their bedroom, but he still has to push himself to it and he still can’t figure out why Donna seems to be so at ease, enjoys it even. Forty years of silence, assumption, and a growing impulse to judge your own self worth on the age gap between yourself and the person you wake up next to don’t get undone quickly, he’s found out. 

Donna’s as patient as he’s confused though, and when she says, “no,” and stretches out underneath him, nudging his hip to settle his weight against her, she doesn’t even sound particularly bothered about it. She does, however, sound concerned that it bothers him. “Are you okay?” she asks.

“It’s just… this has never happened to me before.”

Donna raises an eyebrow, looks at him with the perfect mix of humour and gentle knowing, and pats his ass like he’s just said something particularly dim. “Oh honey, of course it has.”

“I - what?”

“I’m going to let you in on a little secret. Half of those twenty-something one-night-stands you spent most of your disposable income on for about five years?”

Harvey feels a creeping embarrassment make itself obvious across his face. “No,” he says, even as he realises that she’s right. Of course she’s right. 

“Yes.” She sees him wince, and laughs at his weak protest over them making all the right noises at the time. She cups his jaw, kisses him, lets her smile bleed through the press of her lips, taking all the sting out of the conversation.

“It’s very normal,” she says. “Especially when you haven’t been with someone for long. It takes time to get to know people’s rhythms and wants.” She shrugs. “It usually takes me a while with new partners. You’re the exception. Nobody comes all the time.” Harvey smirks and raises his eyebrow, and she flicks his ear with a low chuckle. “Not all  _ women _ , I mean.” 

Harvey feels the confusion painting his face around the laughter, and squeezes the hand holding his thumb by way of explanation. “ But I thought you liked this. When I use my hands on you.”

“I do.”

“Then…”

“Harvey.” She brings his thumb to her mouth, kisses the knuckle, rests his hand against her collarbone. “I am a woman. I have hormones. And sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I’m tired, or distracted, or it’s just not the night. It’s okay. Tonight just isn't the night.”

“We don’t have to. If you’re not feeling into it. I don’t want you to feel...” He searches for the right word. “Obligated.”

“I know that. And I don’t. But this isn’t a competition. You don’t owe me one orgasm for every one you have. Harvey, I love being with you. I love feeling you inside me, and knowing you want to be with me. I don’t always need more than that. There’s no finish line. Just… be here. With me. And I’ll be here with you. Okay?” 

“Okay.”

She taps his nose. “And stop looking at me like you just had to tell Mike that Santa isn’t real.”

Harvey wrinkles his nose against her finger, lifts his mouth to kiss her fingertip lightly. She murmurs, “bed,” and he presses up on his hands, lets Donna shift to her side, and presses his chest against her back, arm snaking around her waist as she settles and sighs contentedly. 

Harvey says low that he loves her, into the soft of her hair, and grins against the back of her head when Donna lightly says she loves him back even though she has to downgrade his bedroom performance to eight out of ten. 

He’d tired enough that he slips into dreams almost immediately, and wakes her in the morning with his hand drifting down her torso, between her legs, and takes his time, and this time she comes with his name on her lips as the sun warms them in the slow of the day. 

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I've been so busy I haven't had a chance to write, lately, and this feels very rusty, but... thank you for reading! As always, reviews and constructive criticism are so appreciated.


End file.
